


yeah, you made me blush like that

by flooded_in_the_sky



Category: A Heist With Markiplier (Web Series), Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Feelings Realization, Halloween, Other, POV Second Person, Pre-Relationship, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:28:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27639554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flooded_in_the_sky/pseuds/flooded_in_the_sky
Summary: “Are you free on Halloween?” Damien asks as you’re packing up your things on Tuesday.“Uh, depends. Why?”“My friends and I are going to a costume party. You wanna come with?”“I’ll think about it.”“It’s my roommate’s friend that’s throwing it. Shouldn’t be too intense, if that's what you’re worried about.”“I appreciate your consideration,” you say with a smile as he holds the classroom door for you. “I’ll think about it, really. You said it was a costume party?”“Yeah.”“Okay, then. I’ll text you.”You go to a Halloween party with Damien and some friends. It doesn't go quite how you expected.
Relationships: Damien/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 27





	yeah, you made me blush like that

“Are you free on Halloween?” Damien asks as you’re packing up your things on Tuesday.

“Uh, depends. Why?”

“My friends and I are going to a costume party. You wanna come with?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“It’s my roommate’s friend that’s throwing it. Shouldn’t be too intense, if that's what you’re worried about.”

“I appreciate your consideration,” you say with a smile as he holds the classroom door for you. “I’ll think about it, really. You said it was a costume party?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, then. I’ll text you.”

“I’ll go,” you say by way of greeting the next day. “To the party, I mean. I know I said I would text you, but I forgot.”

“Really? Awesome! Okay, we’re meeting in my room and going over together.”

“What time?”

“Around eight. You’d better have a good costume. Mine is killer.”

“Oh, is it?” you ask, arching an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“It’s a surprise.” Damien grins at your visible annoyance with his reply.

“Come on, give me a hint.”

“I just did! It’s killer!”

“Oh, _wow_ , that really narrows it down for me.”

“You’re smart enough, Y/N, you’ll figure it out.”

“Well, I’m glad you think so highly of me.”

“Of course.”

The two of you make your way to one of the study rooms at the very back of the library. Hudson’s already inside, intently focused on his book. He offers a wave as you shut the door and Damien claims the chair at the table closest to the outlet. 

“How’s it going, man? What’s the book of the day?” Damien asks as he plugs in his phone.  
“1984, George Orwell.”

“Oh, I remember I hated that book’s ending.”

“So do I.”  
“So why read it?” you ask.

“I like the commentary on misinformation and how totalitarian governments use it.”

“Oh shit, nice.” You sit down on the floor underneath the whiteboard on the wall. “Am I gonna bang my head on this if I sit here?”

“Only one way to find out,” Damien replies. 

“Ha ha, funny guy.”

“I do my best.”

The rest of the week passes by in a haze of homework and readings you know you won’t remember. The pieces of your costume are hanging up at the front of your closet, the tan shirt, dark jacket, and green cargo pants you found secondhand months ago.

“I’m too excited about this costume.”

“Considering you’re going as a background character from Star Wars, probably.”

“In my defense, I think it’s a very cool costume. And I threw it together last night, so.”

“Fair enough. Who are you going with again tonight?”

“A friend from class invited me. His roommate knows who’s throwing it.”

“Sounds sketchy.” Casey spins around in their wheelie chair. 

“I promise it’s not.” You zip up your boots, check your watch, and stand up. “It’s almost eight, I should get going.” You pause. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Scary movie marathon with Will. She’s so excited.” Casey grins at the mention of her partner. 

“Oh, have fun!”

“You too! Be safe!”

“Yes, _Dad_ ,” you sigh dramatically. 

“Call me if you need anything!”

“Okay!” You put your phone and your keys in your pocket and start walking to Damien’s hall. 

“It’s unlocked!” a muffled voice calls after your knock. Sure enough, you turn the door handle, and it swings open. Damien’s roommate, Illinois, is sitting on the edge of his desk on his phone. 

“Oh, hey! Y/N!”

“Hey!” You do a double take. “Are you Indiana Jones?”

“It fits the brand, what can I say?“ He stops to think for a moment. “I’m sorry, I can’t tell what your costume is.”

“It was pretty last minute. I’m a Resistance member, from Star Wars.”

“Oh! Okay, that makes sense.” Illinois nods and looks back down at his phone, typing a reply to somebody. 

You turn to see Celine in a black dress sitting on the floor against the wall and Damien facing away from you. “What’s going on here?”

“Makeup,” Celine says. “ _Somebody_ wanted to go big this year, and roped me into it.”

“What are sisters for?” Damien asks with a slight lisp. He’s got a dark red cape on from what you can tell. 

“Sit still. I don’t want to poke your eye out.” She holds an eyeliner pen in one hand and Damien’s face steady in another as she works. You look back to Illinois, who shrugs. 

“You weren’t here for the rest of it.”

“The rest of it?”

“Okay, almost done.” Celine puts on her finishing touches and stands up. She brushes her skirt off and grabs a witch’s hat off Damien’s bed. As she puts it on, little star earrings catch the dingy light in the room. “Let’s see.”

Damien stands up and it takes you all of two seconds to figure out what he is. “Are you a vampire?”

“Mayhaps.”

You start to think of something else to say, but the words die on your tongue when he turns around to face you. He’s got fake fangs stuck to his teeth, and you can only imagine how fun those’ll be to get off later, but what really stops you is his eyes. He looks weirdly good in eyeliner and in a dress shirt. The combo works a little too well for your liking. 

“What do you think?” he asks, and it snaps you out of your daze.

“It’s-it looks really good.” 

“You think?”

“Yeah, holy shit. Those fangs are awesome.”

“It took way too long to get them on, so I’m glad you think it’s worth it. I like your costume too.”  
“Thanks.” You’re not quite sure what to do next except to look back at his eyes, and it must be obvious because Illinois says, “Are we ready to go? Benji’s texting me every five seconds.” To prove his point, he holds up his phone screen, showing texts arriving rapidly. 

“Yeah, let’s head out. Mark texted and said he’ll meet us there.” Celine puts her phone in the dress’s pocket and cleans up the faux fangs kit. 

You do your best to stay out of the way and open the door into the hallway. “Where are we even going?”

“I’m not sure. Illinois, lead the way.” Damien holds the door open as everybody shuffles out and locks it behind him. 

“It’s about a ten minute walk. I’ll tell him we’re on our way and maybe he’ll stop making my phone explode.”

“If it’s Benji, that’s wishful thinking,” Damien says. The two of you fall in behind Illinois and Celine, who are arguing over a professor they both have. The walk to the lobby of the building is short, and the night air bites at you harsher than you expected. Illinois leads you and the others through a part of campus you’ve only been to a few times, and then to the row of frat houses just off campus. They’re all decorated and pulsing with bass as you walk by, and it makes you nervous. What are you getting yourself into?

“Don’t worry. We can leave if you want to,” Damien says quietly, as if reading your thoughts.

“No, I wouldn’t want to mess up your night. Besides, I bet it’ll be fun.” You give him a grin, and though he looks like he wants to say something else, he doesn’t, and gives a small smile back. Even in the dark, his eyes look nice.

That’s a problem.

Almost as soon as you step inside, you’re greeted by Illinois’ friend Benji. He’s dressed as a robot, if the silver paint on his face is anything to go by, and he’s basically bouncing off the walls. You wonder if he’s had more alcohol or caffeine tonight as you’re swept into the kitchen of the house and Celine disappears into the crowd looking for Mark. Illinois is gone as well, though where to, you’re not sure. Damien is still lingering in the kitchen with you, drink in hand. 

“Are you sure you don’t want anything?”

“I’m fine for now, but thank you.” You resist the urge to pull out your phone and text Casey, but they’re probably with Will by now, and it would be rude to interrupt. 

“Come on, I’ll introduce you to some of my other friends.” Damien holds out a hand, and against your better judgement, you take it. 

“I didn’t know you had other friends,” you joke, and he rolls his eyes with a half-smile.

“Believe it or not.” He stops at a small group of people near the edge of the dance floor, and the music is so loud you can barely hear him introduce you. Celine gives a little wave from across the circle next to Mark. You stand there for a few minutes, trying to catch pieces of conversation, but it’s not really working. Suddenly, you feel like you’re in over your head, and the bass pounding in your skull doesn’t really help. You let go of Damien’s hand and head back to the kitchen. If he calls after you, you can’t hear. It takes a minute, but you find your way back, and get a glass of the punch. It smells like Gatorade and hand sanitizer, which isn’t a good sign, but you take a sip anyway. This time, you do pull out your phone, if only to have something to do. It doesn’t last long as a distraction, and you take another sip of the punch. The smell was bad enough, but the taste is another thing entirely. You set it down with little intention of picking it back up. 

“Hey, what’s up?” Celine sweeps into the kitchen, dark eyes questioning.

“Just got a bit overwhelmed, I’m fine.”

“Were you drinking that stuff?” Celine wrinkles her nose and nods at the punch.  
“Tried to. It’s pretty bad.”

“There’s better stuff out there if you want to come back? I know Damien was concerned when you left.”

The words echo in your head the way the music did when you were in the living room, and you try not to think about it too much. “Sure, let’s go.” You follow them back out of the kitchen, and the bass isn’t so loud this time. Maybe the hearing loss is setting in. 

They’re not clustered by the dance floor this time, and when you see Damien he’s got a different drink in his hand than when you last saw him. 

“There you are! Where’d you go?”

“Just had to get some air is all. How are you?”

“I am fantastic,” he declares, just a bit slurred, and he takes another drink. “Y/N, this is Yancy. He’s friends with Mark, except he’s cooler than Mark.”

“I don’t know ‘bout that,” Yancy says. “Y/N, Damien’s been talking you up over here. Says you’re real smart.”

“Damien’s the smart one out of the two of us,” you reply. “I’m just the eye candy.”

Yancy laughs. “He was right!”

“I am _always_ right,” Damien says. “They just like to argue.”

“Good practice for your future in lawyering,” you say.  
“You got me there.” Damien finishes off his drink. “I’m gonna grab another, you want anything?”

“No, thank you.” He wanders back towards the front of the house where the music is shaking the floorboards. 

“So, what brings youse here tonight?” Yancy asks and takes a drink.  
“Damien’s roommate, actually.”

“He’s the one dressed like Indy?”

“Yeah, that’s him. What brings you here?”

“Mark. Can’t seem to find him anywhere, though.” Yancy scans the room. “What do you do?”

“Haven’t decided yet,” you reply. “You?”

“Theater. I’m a half-decent actor, but Mark makes up for it wit’ his scripts.”

“Oh, wow! I’ll have to come see a show, then.”

“We’s actually got one coming up in a few weeks. _Twelfth Night._ ”

“Okay, I definitely have to come, then.”

“Where’re we goin’?” Damien is back with another drink, and you’ve already managed to lose count of how many he’s had tonight.

“Should you slow down with those?”

“‘M good, don’ worry.”

Yancy snorts. “Lightweight.”

You laugh a bit too. Of all the things you expected Damien to be, a lightweight wasn’t one of them, but it probably should’ve been. The start of a new song bursts from the speakers, and you jump a bit.  
“Youse okay?” Yancy asks at the same time that Damien looks back towards the speakers and puts an arm around your shoulder like it’s something he does all the time. You choose to blame the heat in your face on the sheer number of people around you instead of the obvious cause.

“I’m not a huge fan of loud noises.”

“Weird choice of, uh, venue, then.”

“Yeah, well. Couldn’t turn down an invitation.” You look up at Damien then, but he’s taking another drink. He looks at you and winks, and a small part of you wonders what’s going on in his head. 

“Oh, there he is.” Yancy points out Illinois dancing with Benji and somebody else you don’t recognize, also dressed as a robot. “I’m gonna go catch up wit’ him. See you two later!” Yancy is swallowed by the throng of people surrounding the dance floor as he crosses to the other side of the room, and you are suddenly aware there’s no buffer for _whatever_ is going on with you and Damien. 

“You doin’ okay?” he asks, and something about his eyes on you is almost too much. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” You look back out at the crowd. “I’m alright.”

By the time you get out of the party, your head hurts and you’re exhausted. As you’re waiting for Mark on the porch, you check your phone and respond to the text Casey sent about an hour ago. They’re definitely asleep by now. 

“Did you have a good time?” Damien asks, leaning on the railing next to you. 

“I think so,” you lie. In truth, you’re probably not going to one of these again, but having Damien by your side made it a little better.

“You’re a bad liar,” Damien says, no heat, and your cheeks burn. 

“Okay, so it’s not exactly my thing, but it wasn’t bad!”

“I’m glad you came tonight.”

“Me, too.” You see him start to reach for your hand as Mark barges out of the house following Celine. As drunk as Damien is, he’s quiet about it. Mark is most definitely not, loudly talking in Celine’s ear about something you don’t really understand. 

“I love him, but I’m so glad he’s not my roommate,” Damien says, staring out at the rest of the street, and you snort. 

“Should we follow them?”

“No, they’re goin’ back to Mark’s. Don’ wanna know what they’re gonna do there.” 

“You said Illinois is crashing here, right? Do you need help getting home?”

Damien is about to protest as he stands up on the porch and teeters just a bit.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

He lets you help him down the crumbling stairs and onto the sidewalk, leaning on you all the way back to his hall.

“Drink.” You hand him a bottle of water and some Tylenol. He grumbles, but downs the pills anyway.

“Wanna get these off.” Damien picks at the fake fangs still glued to his teeth, and you sigh. 

“Celine left the packaging on your desk. That should tell us how.”

You read it over and see that they should pop off pretty easily.

“Can you wiggle the fangs around?”

Damien looks at you, incredibly puzzled. “Can I wiggle ‘em around?”

“Yeah, to take them off. So you can go to sleep.”

“Oh.” He plays with them for a moment or two, and you hear a quiet click as one comes off, and then a second click as the other one does too. He sets them on his nightstand and flops into bed. “Are you gonna stay?”

You check your watch and wince at how late it is. “I don’t think so. It’s really late.”

“You shouldn’t walk back by yourself if it’s late.” He has a point. You’re not a huge fan of wandering around alone at night, especially if there’s mobs of drunk college kids out to join you. You think about it for a minute, and then send a text to Casey. 

“I’ll stay.”

“Good.” Damien scoots over on his bed and pats the little sliver of space next to him. “Got you right here.”

You don’t know how to respond to that. 

“Damien, you’re drunk.”

“Not like _that,_ ” he says, sounding vaguely scandalized. “Jus’ don’ want you sleepin’ on the floor is all.”

“I can take Illinois’ bed?”

“He’s grumpy about his bed. Jus’ c’mere.”

“Let me shut the lights out first,” you say, taking off your boots and your jacket. You set them down by Damien’s dresser and carefully get into bed next to him. Of all the places you expected to be tonight, this really wasn’t one of them. 

“Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Damien.” He shifts a bit closer to you so that your back is touching his chest, and you feel like you’re not supposed to breathe or move in the least. If you do, you’ll break some kind of spell that’s fallen over the room. You both lay there in the dark quiet for a few minutes, the only sounds coming from the world outside and your own breathing. It sounds like Damien is close to sleep, but you’re too wired to even think about it right now. 

Slowly, he moves again, this time putting an arm around your waist, and your heart jumps into your throat.

“Is this okay?” he mumbles, and your reply nearly gets stuck in your mouth.

“Yeah.”

You wake up the first time and forget where you are for just a second or two. Then you realize Damien’s pulled you even closer and your face is buried in his neck and the night’s events come rushing back. He sighs in his sleep and you freeze, thinking he’s awake. But then he doesn’t move again after that, and his breathing settles. You shut your eyes tightly and go back to sleep, hoping this isn’t some vivid dream.

There is another brief moment when you’re in the limbo between awake and asleep. There’s some shifting around you, and you swear you feel the lightest kiss on your forehead. But it’s probably just your imagination.

Right?

When you wake up, really wake up, the sun is streaming through the window on the other side of the little room.

You’re alone.

You sit up, yawn, and stretch a bit. Your hair is a tangled mess, and you pull it back with the hair tie on your wrist. You’re prepared to get your things, leave, maybe never mention the past 48 hours again, but there’s a note left on top of your phone. It’s plugged into a charger on Damien’s desk, and you don’t remember doing that last night.

_Y/N, I went to get some breakfast. I’ll bring back your favorite, and I shouldn’t be too long. -Damien_

“Huh.” You stick the note in the pocket of your pants and check your messages. There are a few from Casey asking about last night, and you feel bad for worrying them. You reply and tell them everything is fine, you just woke up late. And it’s true. The clock on your phone says it’s close to ten, much later than you’d ever sleep in on a weekend. In your defense, you had to contend with a drunk and weirdly attractive Damien. 

“No! Not going down that rabbit hole!” you say aloud, as if to stuff the thought back where it came from. You don’t know when or how _Damien_ and _hot_ became connected, but the more you think about it despite your best efforts, the more you know that last night wasn’t the first time you noticed. It was the most clear, for sure, but there were other things, too.

The doorknob clicks, and you jump, your train of thought scattered as Damien comes into the room, fast food bags in hand.

“Good morning. You really didn’t have to get me breakfast.”

“Oh, please. This is my hangover routine, and it’d be rude if I didn’t get you anything.”

He hands you the bag and you dig into your favorite breakfast sandwich. You both sit on the floor and eat quickly in comfortable silence. Damien downs another couple of Tylenol pills after he’s done.

“How much of last night do you remember?” you ask, and his face turns slightly red.

“Not much after about halfway through. Why, did I do something stupid?”

You laugh. “No, I was just curious.” You pause. Think. “Do you remember asking me to stay over?”

Damien scratches his head. “I think so. Sorry about that.”

“No, it’s totally fine! It was kind of nice, actually. Besides, I wouldn’t have wanted to walk home by myself.” You don’t know what to say next, and you look down at your hands in your lap.

“Well, I’m glad I wasn’t imposing.” Damien throws his trash away and you do the same. The room is quiet, and neither of you can look at each other for too long. You come up with a lame excuse about getting started on the week’s work to leave and pretend to not see the confused hurt on Damien’s face. 

“I’ll text you,” you tell him as you zip up your boots.

If he's more physical when you hang out, more touchy or leaning into you whenever he's given the opportunity, you don't mind. You only wish he'd go just a bit further, or maybe that you could make the move yourself.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! this is my first time writing in this style, so i hope you like it! thank you to my discord pals for letting me scream about this au and helping me develop it. title is from virtual aerobics by wallows.


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